


I'm Not Waiting for the Wolves (Return)

by luoup (ravenic)



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Grimm!Pyrrha - Freeform, Past Character Death, Post-Volume 4 (RWBY), Pyrrha Comes Back, Sort Of, Temporary Character Death, she's... not quite the same, what am I even doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-01-21 01:06:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12446040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenic/pseuds/luoup
Summary: “Ren?” he tried.“That’s not a grimm,” his teammate said with a voice so low it was almost inaudible.  The creature flicked one ear at him, standing tensed but still.  “That’s Pyrrha.”Pyrrha comes back, as a grimm.





	1. I'm Begging You to Keep Haunting Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as the tags say: what the fuck am i even doing. this idea came to me a long time ago and i was immediately like “nope, never writing that it’s too weird and strange and ow.” evidently that was not the case. it’s still weird and strange and very much ow but apparently i’m writing it anyway. 
> 
> so. uh. yeah. this is happening. let me know what you think, i guess.
> 
> title is from "wolves" by maggie rogers

The surviving members of what had once been Team JNPR were on their own.  Ruby had rejoined Yang and Weiss, and Blake was on her way.  RWBY had work to do.  JNPR – JNR – was heading back towards Vale with no real plan besides kill grimm and try to do something good in a world that seemed to have very little good in it. 

They had talked about changing their name.  JRN could be Journey (hey, if C-F-V-Y could be pronounced “Coffee” they could do whatever they wanted), but even after all this time it still felt like betraying Pyrrha.  They had been RJNR with Ruby, but that had been different, temporary. 

JNPR was gone, they knew that.  But that didn’t make it easier to think about.  It hurt to keep using the name, with one letter missing now, but it also hurt to think of changing it.  In truth JNPR had been a mediocre team, overall – they hadn’t had the time to form into something truly powerful, and there had always been disasters overshadowing their efforts.  But it had been the most significant thing in all their lives, and they couldn’t just get rid of it.  JNPR – JRN – whatever they were, now, floated in a limbo, unspoken. 

Unfortunately, the group didn’t have much time to talk about things like team names and mourned loved ones.  They were three half-trained Hunters wandering the undefended forests somewhere in the Vale-Mistral border, and there were a lot of grimm out there.  A _lot._  

_“Jaune, duck!”_

After over a year living and training in close quarters with Nora Valkyrie, Jaune had this like an instinct.  He hit the ground flat and glanced up just in time to watch a series of bright pink grenades hit the ursa square in the chest.  The beast’s roar shook the very air, but when the smoke cleared it was nothing more than a heap, already dissolving into dust. 

The ursa was gone, but there was no time to lie around.  Jaune rolled over and heaved himself to his feet, bringing the shield of Crocea Mors up just in time to block a blow from a beowolf.  Two more came leaping at him, and Jaune couldn’t even check on his teammates, too busy blocking and slashing, the only thing in his mind the need to survive and the snarls of the monsters around him. 

And there were a lot of monsters.  They had fought more than Jaune could count, both with Ruby as RJNR and over the past few weeks on their own, but this was a large horde.  Nora and Ren both had long-distance components to their weapons, but Crocea Mors was old-fashioned and for close-quarters combat only. 

There were a lot of grimm.  Too many.  Jaune was beginning to think that the only reason he hadn’t yet had his head ripped off was because there were so many grimm that they were crowding each other out.  He couldn’t see Nora or Ren.  With this many grimm, they were probably struggling just as much as him. 

 _How are we gonna get out of this one, now?_  

The answer came in a roar that made the ursa’s dying scream sound like a kitten’s mewl.  The source was another beowolf, although this one appeared to be a variant of some sort.  It happened with grimm, there was one type that was more common, almost considered standard, but others existed, slightly different in one way or another.  This beast was a little larger than the other beowolves, with smaller spikes and a bigger tail.  Despite its size, the creature had a rangier build, not as stocky as the others and with finer forelimbs.  Fine forelimbs still tipped with five-inch claws, of course.  The thing was still a beowolf. 

Variants sometimes had different abilities than other grimm, and Jaune braced himself when he saw it.  To his surprise, instead of focusing on him, an exhausted human with only a sword and shield, the creature tore through the other grimm instead, roaring all the while.  Black dust flew as it decimated the horde, teeth and claws gleaming like bone. 

Jaune was so baffled by the grimm’s behavior that he was still just standing there when it turned to him. 

The clearing was half-empty now, he noticed vaguely.  Most of the horde had either been killed – some by JRN, most by this rogue grimm – or fled when the tide turned against them.  So now there were few others to distract the strange beowolf, and it fixed its glowing scarlet eyes directly on Jaune. 

Belatedly, Jaune brought Crocea Mors up into a fighting stance.  This thing was catching him unbalanced – its behavior had thrown him off his game.  At a bit of a loss, he stood there, shield and sword up, waiting for it to come at him. 

Nora came at it first.  Magnhild sounded like distant thunder as it fired, sending its wielder into the air to come crashing down at the grimm, hammer-head first. 

Or at least she would have, if Ren hadn’t shouted, “Wait, Nora, _stop!”_

Only Ren’s voice could have stopped her.  Nora altered course in midair and slammed into the dirt midway between Jaune and the grimm, righting herself quickly and whipping her head around to glare at her partner where he stood leaning heavily against a tree.  “What, Ren?  It’s a grimm!  Sure the whole killing other grimm thing was weird, but it’s still a grimm and we need to get rid of it before it figures out that we’re not on its side!”

“No.”

Ren’s voice sounded strange.  Tight, controlled.  He was staring at the grimm with an expression Jaune had never seen before – fear, confusion, hope?  He looked like he wanted to scream, or cry.  For smooth flat barely-emotional Ren, this was baffling, and Jaune was more than a little concerned. 

“Ren?” he tried. 

His teammate was breathing slowly, rigidly.  “That’s not a grimm,” he said with a voice so low it was almost inaudible.  The creature flicked one ear at him, standing tensed but still.  “That’s Pyrrha.”

A beat of shocked silence, and then Nora exploded.  Not literally, not quite, but close.  _“What?_   Ren, what the _heck_ are you talking about?  That’s a _grimm!_   It’s not – it can’t – what–”

Jaune couldn’t speak.  It had been over half a year since Pyrrha died, but he… wasn’t really over it.  It had been so abrupt, so – so purposeless, and there had been no real resolution.  He was accepting it, slowly, but this – what was Ren even _talking_ about?  How could he say that; Jaune’s heart had leapt for an instant, shattering all that acceptance, looking for her, searching her out, where was she, Ren said – Ren said –

“I said, that grimm is Pyrrha.” Ren’s voice was impossibly calm.  What was he thinking?  How could he say that? 

“It’s not a normal grimm,” he continued.  That much was obvious.  “You know that I can sense danger.  There is none of that near her.  She’s not attacking us.  She protected you, Jaune.”

“But–”

 _“Listen_ to me _,_ Nora, _please._   It – she – that grimm has her Aura.  I – I can feel it.  It’s her.  Nothing in the world can imitate an Aura like that.  It’s hers.  Please listen to me.  That’s Pyrrha.”

It wasn’t possible.  It was absolutely, 100% impossible.  And yet here was Ren, who never lied, who never exaggerated or made things up, Ren who knew things, Ren who Jaune trusted more than anyone in the world, saying that it was. 

Nora looked as conflicted as Jaune felt.  “I…  Ren, how – how’s that possible?  It can’t – she can’t–”

“She is.” Ren had never sounded so serious in all the time Jaune had known him. 

Jaune couldn’t believe it, not really.  It was such a leap, to look at this grimm – this monster – and see Pyrrha inside.  But Ren could, so he tried. 

The grimm was big, but with a smooth compact build differing from the tough blocky form of normal beowolves.  Its ears were large, flicking back and forth as each member of JRN spoke.  It hadn’t moved at all through the whole conversation, which was especially strange.  Most grimm had one-track minds: destroy, destroy, destroy.  Kill, kill, kill.  But this one had stood there and watched JRN talk and hadn’t done anything at all.  It was baffling.  The oddity of that inaction was almost enough to lend credit to Ren’s theory – no normal grimm would have just sat and waited as a group of humans talked amongst themselves. 

Jaune’s heart felt like it might burst.  He wanted so, so badly for his friend to return to him.  He needed her.  JNPR needed her.  He stared at the grimm, trying to see his partner in the beowolf’s red eyes.  It stared back, silent. 

Nora was talking.  “Ren, you know I love you and I trust you.  But this is impossible.  I don’t know how it’s imitating Py – her Aura, but it can’t be real.  That thing isn’t a human, it’s a monster.  Pyrrha’s dead.  And people don’t come back.”  Nora’s voice cracked.  “They don’t come back, not ever.”

“Please,” Ren said, almost a whisper.  Jaune didn’t know who he was talking to, his teammates or the grimm, didn’t know what he was pleading for.  “Please.”

The beowolf blinked.  Then it took a step forward. 

Nora had Magnhild up and loaded in a heartbeat, but Ren held one trembling hand out.  He didn’t speak, just stared at the grimm.  Nora didn’t like it, but she held her fire. 

The grimm moved forward slowly, calmly, like it didn’t have a warhammer-grenade launcher aimed directly at its head.  Jaune’s heart beat faster and faster as it stepped towards him, and he wondered idly if it could hear the sound through his chest.  Both his teammates (his remaining teammates) watched like nevermores, Nora radiating tension and energy like a live wire and Ren looking desperate, like this was his life on the line. 

The beowolf came to a stop in front of Jaune.  He had been close to grimm before, but it was usually in combat situations, moving fast and hitting hard.  He’d never been near a calm grimm before.  He could feel the creature’s warmth, see its sides rise and fall as it breathed.  Its eyes glowed like cinders. 

Jaune held himself stone-still as the grimm extended its neck.  The bone-like plating of the mask on its face gleamed, red streaks like blood banding over it.  Slowly, very slowly, it reached out and brought its nose almost to touch Crocea Mors’s shield.  It hovered there, almost uncertain.  Let out a slow, heavy breath.  Tilted its head like a puzzled dog, first one way, then the other.  Blinked, like it was thinking. 

Jaune felt like he’d been struck by Nora’s lightning.  The grimm’s red-coal eyes were staring straight at the mark on the shield.  Not the double crescents of the Arc family – the other one.  The scrolling shape that had once been a circlet belonging to his partner, the Undefeatable Girl, Pyrrha Nikos. 

The grimm sniffed at the circlet one more time, then took a step or two back, apparently finished with its investigation.  Jaune couldn’t breathe.  Nora’s eyes were wide as dinner plates, shock and fear and hope blazing within them.  Ren looked exhausted.  The beowolf looked… interested.  Relaxed, but curious.  This was not a normal grimm, that much was clear. 

It couldn’t be her.  It had to be her. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from haunting by halsey
> 
> the [tumblr](http://luoup.tumblr.com)


	2. Bring on the Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrrha is back. JNPR adapts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it’s been an eternity. i’m really hoping to get my act together on fandom writing things so hopefully this will get updated sooner rather than later. 
> 
> enjoy more pyrrha-is-a-grimm weirdness. i love hearing what you all think of this particularly strange idea of mine!

Ren slept easily that night.  Nora and Jaune were nervous – and with good reason, there was a grimm lying mere feet away – but Ren was certain in his belief.  He knew that Pyrrha, despite the… new form, would never hurt them. 

The other grimm were not so kind.  Later, Ren would tell them that he wasn’t sure how so many snuck so close without his sense of danger alerting him (or Pyrrha, for that matter).  All he knew was that one minute he was sleeping and the next there was roaring and shouting and the flash of muzzle flare as Nora fired Magnhild’s grenades wildly into the darkness. 

The darkness wasn’t so dark anymore.  Everywhere the Hunter team looked there were glowing red eyes, gleaming shapes of bone-white plating and glistening teeth.  Snarls and roars cut through the once-quiet night, screeches and shrieks as the monsters came like waves and were cut down by Crocea Mors, Magnhild, and StormFlower. 

But the Hunters were tired.  Nighttime fighting wasn’t ideal to begin with, and this was a lot of grimm.  JRN had been caught off-guard. 

JRN may have been caught off-guard, but the creature that had been with them in their camp had not.  The beowolf spun through the masses of grimm, cutting through them like water through sand.  Seeing a beowolf rip another beowolf in half was certainly an experience, Nora noted, before knocking an ursa into its path and watching with satisfaction as the beast got its head torn off. 

Despite the distraction of trying not to get bitten in half, Jaune couldn’t help but think that the beowolf fought like Pyrrha.  Fast and strong, never missing the mark or giving less than a full blow.  _Projecting,_ he told himself.  _You’re seeing what you want to see.  You want to believe Ren but it’s not possible._  

 _Is it?_   he thought as he watched Ren shoot down a boarbatusk that had gotten too close to maybe-Pyrrha’s side.  _It’s a grimm, but it’s attacking other grimm instead of us.  It recognized Pyrrha’s circlet in my shield._

 _Maybe it’s not Pyrrha.  Maybe it’s just a really weird monster and soon it will figure out that it’s doing its job wrong and come at us instead of the grimm._ But Jaune had seen a lot of weird things.  And maybe it was just wishful thinking, but this grimm was acting strangely, Ren said it was Pyrrha, it fought like Pyrrha, and it hadn’t hurt any of them.  Counting yesterday’s attack when it had protected Jaune from the ursa, this was the second time it had defended JRN from grimm. 

_Maybe it’s not Pyrrha._

_But maybe it is._  

Jaune wasn’t sure what to think about that possibility. 

* * *

Despite all their misgivings – this was, after all, a _grimm_ , and they were Hunters – Jaune, Nora, and Ren did not kill the strange beowolf, nor did they drive it off.  Instead… they let it stay.  And… it stayed. 

The beast could detect approaching grimm long before even Ren could sense them, giving JRN more than enough time to either clear out or prepare to fight.  It caught its own food – rabbits or squirrels or dying grimm – and caused no drain on their meager supplies.  It rarely came very close to any of them, but it never strayed too far either. 

In short, JRN appeared to have acquired itself a pet grimm. 

(Or maybe Ren was right and their lost teammate had somehow, impossibly, come back to them.)

They kept a list of Reasons Why the Weird Grimm Is Maybe Pyrrha.  It started short, but as it grew so did their hopes. 

It touched Jaune’s shield where he had incorporated Pyrrha’s circlet.  It never attacked them or showed any aggression to them.  It watched Jaune practice and huffed when he messed up moves Pyrrha had taught him.  It played chase with Nora’s grenades.  It lay beside Ren while he meditated, eyes closed and breathing slowed.  When they sat around the fire at night, lost somewhere in the wilds far beyond human shelter, it almost always chose one of two positions: beside Jaune and across from Nora and Ren as Pyrrha had so often done, or between Nora and Ren: J-N-P-R. 

Maybe they were wrong.  Maybe hope and grief were driving them to see things where there was nothing to see.  But after more than two weeks of the strange grimm behaving half like a particularly beastly pet and half like their lost teammate, JRN decided to believe the impossible. 

Somehow, the grimm was Pyrrha.  It didn’t matter how she had become like this, or why.  It didn’t matter if this was temporary or if this was what she was now, permanently.  All that mattered was that it was her. 

It was impossible.  It was true. 

The Undefeatable Girl had come home. 

* * *

But although Pyrrha had returned to them, she was still a grimm.  A little feral, a little monstrous.  She wasn’t their normal human friend anymore.  She didn’t speak, and she only seemed to understand some of what they were saying.  She didn’t act like Pyrrha; she acted like a grimm that was maybe Pyrrha (definitely Pyrrha, if you asked Ren.  He had never budged from his certainty.). 

One day about three weeks after finding Pyrrha, they almost lost her again.  After all, she was a grimm, and they were fighting grimm daily now, or at least so it felt.  So it had only been a matter of time before friendly fire occurred. 

A lot of fire. 

Nora had been tinkering with Magnhild, especially the grenades since she was the only one left on JRN – JNPR – they weren’t sure what they were anymore – with long-distance attacks that had significant force.  Stormflower wasn’t enough when there were seething hordes of grimm coming from all sides.  A particularly powerful grenade was. 

Unfortunately, the particular patch of seething hordes that Nora fired at included Pyrrha.  She was on the outskirts of the blast but still took damage.  The ridge of spikes on her back was cracked, two broken, and there was a shallow crack running along one side of the bonelike mask over her face. 

Ren and Nora had a fight over it.  Jaune had never heard them fight, much less shout at each other, and it was honestly scarier than anything he’d seen before.  Ren was furious that Nora had gotten Pyrrha hurt.  Nora was defensive, angry that she was under attack for trying to do her job.  Eventually one of them brought up something about Pyrrha possibly not being Pyrrha – either Ren thought Nora didn’t care about her now, or Nora said maybe it was just a grimm and it didn’t matter if it died – but that escalated the fight drastically.  Jaune was eventually able to make them stop, but they both left angry and didn’t speak to one another for the rest of the night. 

Pyrrha herself had slunk off to hide from the noise and lick her wounds.  Jaune found her and, after approaching slowly enough that she could have warned him off with a growl if she wanted, sat down beside her. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he said quietly, pressing his face into his hands and swallowing the _Pyrrha_ at the end of the sentence.  “This has never happened.  Ever.”  He wasn’t sure if he meant the fight or Pyrrha’s strange return. 

“You’re Pyrrha.  We’re sure.”  _I think we’re sure.  I hope we’re sure._   “But what are we going to do about this?  We can’t just walk around as a team of three Hunters and a grimm.  It’s unheard of.  It’s impossible.” 

 _We’ll never be accepted anywhere again_.  But did that matter?  They had Pyrrha back.  JNPR had always been a bit of an outsider team anyway.  After everything, what did it matter that one of their members was a grimm? 

Jaune glanced over.  The grimm was lying on the ground much like a massive hound, head on her huge clawed paws.  She watched him with one red eye and let out a sigh. 

Was this Pyrrha, saying, _Does it matter?_   Or was this just a very weird grimm, looking at its sworn enemy that it had for some reason been helping for weeks now?  Was this some kind of undercover deep mission, earning the Hunters’ trust before ripping them all to shreds when their guard was down?  Was it just a grimm with a few wires crossed, helping the Hunters in their mission to eradicate grimm just like it? 

Or was it really Pyrrha?  Jaune’s head hurt. 

In any case, this was not a normal grimm.  And until they knew more (or even if they never really learned the truth), they needed to keep from hurting her.  They could tell her from normal beowolves by her build and behavior most of the time, but when the battlefield was raging it was almost impossible to distinguish one grimm from the next. 

Jaune had a solution.  He wasn’t sure the others were going to like it, especially considering the topic of their fight, but he had to try.  He couldn’t risk losing her, not so soon after finding her again. 

He’d kept Pyrrha’s sash, after Beacon.  It had been singed and tattered, but it was one of the few things they had left of her.  Ren had taken it, when he was fixing their clothes, and he’d done what he could.  Now Nora wore a tiny red heart pocket on the inside of her jacket, and Ren’s red coat ties were from it too.  What was left of the main sash, shorter and much narrower now, was wrapped around Jaune’s waist in an echo of the fluttering scarlet that had always been part of Pyrrha’s outfit. 

He’d kept it with him since the Battle of Beacon, but now Jaune thought it might have a more important place.  But would she let him…?

It was still nerve-wracking to be so close to a grimm.  Jaune made himself move slowly and calmly, wondering if she could hear his heart beating, smell his fear.  He wasn’t afraid of _her_ , not really.  He was afraid that she _wasn’t_ her, or that whatever made her her would fade away, dissolve into dust like a grimm’s corpse.  But when he really thought about it, Jaune did not fear Pyrrha.  Not even in this form. 

The grimm looked up as he untied the sash from his waist.  Her eyes glowed red, gleaming like the fabric itself.  She watched, motionless, as Jaune slowly reached out.  He wasn’t sure she was even breathing – he wasn’t sure _he_ was even breathing – as he looped the fabric around Pyrrha’s neck, careful to avoid the huge sharp bone spikes that ran along her crest.  He tied it, making sure it wasn’t too tight, and then sat back. 

It was just a strip of red cloth.  It wouldn’t do anything.  It wouldn’t transform her, wouldn’t bring back the teammate they had lost.  It wasn’t a collar, wouldn’t tame the beast.  It was just fabric. 

It was Pyrrha’s.  Maybe the sash would do nothing more than help JRN distinguish this particular grimm _(Pyrrha)_ from the others.  It wasn’t magical, but it had been hers. 

And maybe it still was.  The grimm tucked her nose down, sniffing at the trailing ends of the sash, and twisted her neck experimentally.  The sash shifted but didn’t seem to impede her movement or catch on her spikes and scruff-short strange bristly fur.  She sniffed it again and let out a huff, finally lying back down.  A gentle tilt and she had tipped over to lie on her side, leaning just slightly against Jaune’s knee. 

Jaune hesitated for a moment, then he reached out and stroked one hand carefully along the grimm’s shoulder.  She didn’t move, breathing slowly and evenly beneath his hand.  Her fur was like a bristle-brush, stiff and prickly but not wholly uncomfortable to touch.  The spikes were hard and cool and smooth, although he avoided touching the ones cracked by Nora’s friendly fire. 

This wasn’t Pyrrha, not really.  Her skin had been warm, soft where it wasn’t callused by training and combat and a handful of scars.  Her hair had been long, flowing like water – or fire.  Pyrrha had been red and brown and gold.  This grimm was black and white and red, but there was still a familiarity in her.  The sash was partly to identify this particular grimm as being on their side and important, but also partly to try to make her more… her. 

It was just a sash.  Just a strip of tattered red fabric wrapped like a dog’s bandanna around her neck.  But when Jaune looked at it, he saw her.  He saw Pyrrha as she was now – a massive grimm, powerful and dangerous and somehow on their side – and he saw her how she had been, sash and hair moving like water, like flame, armor and weapons gleaming in the sunlight, eyes glowing (red now, but green back then). 

Maybe it was just a piece of cloth.  But now Pyrrha had her sash back, and although Jaune’s waist felt empty without it, something settled in his heart.  This was right. 

* * *

Days passed, and then weeks as the sun set and rose and grimm came and fell.  JNPR stuck to the wilds, only venturing to villages when they needed supplies.  The risk of someone noticing Pyrrha near a town was too high.  Whenever they did a supply run, one of them would always stay back with her, waiting for the others.  They couldn’t bring her with them, but they couldn’t bear to lose her.  Not again. 

And she really was Pyrrha.  The grimm was… taming wasn’t the right word, but it was about as good as they could find.  The sash around her neck seemed to have settled her, although that might have just been the humans’ perceptions changing, the physical reminder of who she was despite her different form letting them attach the memory, the concept of _Pyrrha_ to the creature they had all but adopted into their team (back into their team). 

Like all beowolves, Pyrrha could walk on both two and four feet.  When she stood fully upright, she towered over all of them, as big as Team CFVY’s Yatsuhashi Daichi or perhaps even bigger.  Her bone mask gleamed and the red traceries always looked… _wet_ , somehow, like fresh blood.  The bone spikes that formed a ridge down her spine and erupted from elbow and heel joints only added to the alarming picture.  Her jaws could easily have held Jaune’s entire head within them, and a yawn never failed to elicit a moment of sharp strong rabbit-fear in all the rest of the team. 

Pyrrha was a grimm.  But her red eyes seemed softer somehow, when she was looking at them, and she would sit close by and wait for tidbits whenever it was mealtime (Ren always gave her bits while he was cooking if she gave him a particularly pleading look).  When they talked and planned, she would lie beside one of them, ears swiveling to follow whoever was speaking. 

The first time Jaune played one of his training videos was strange.  Pyrrha stared intently at the screen, body tense and ears focused on the tinny sound of her own human voice giving advice and encouragement.  The three watched in suspense, unsure of what was going through the grimm’s mind.  Would this help Pyrrha, or change things for the worse?  A key, or a bomb? 

Neither, it seemed.  After a moment, Pyrrha’s body relaxed.  Her ears dropped back to their standard position and her tail gave a single soft swish.  She turned and lay down beside the pack that propped up the video-playing scroll, dropping her head down onto her forelimbs.  A gusty sigh, and that was, apparently, it. 

She stayed for the whole session.  At first Jaune was unsettled, nervous in a way that he hadn’t been since the first few days of having Pyrrha back.  Would seeing herself, hearing her own voice, change something?  Would it be a good change? 

It didn’t seem to change much at all.  Pyrrha just lay there, watching, and although it continued to trip Jaune up that he was practicing to a video his friend had recorded while that same friend sat beside the Scroll screen, large and dark and spiny, completely changed. 

Or maybe not quite as changed as she looked.  Every time Jaune messed up (which was a lot, but he was getting better, okay?), Pyrrha huffed, giving him a sort of reproachful look with canid-like eyebrows raised beneath her white-bone mask.  She would stare at him until he corrected whatever error he’d made, shifting his weight, rearranging his feet, adjusting his grip on Crocea Mors.  Then she’d blink, almost in approval, and go back to that relaxed observance as he continued the routine. 

Combined with Pyrrha’s voice, helpful and encouraging as she had always been, and her image in the Scroll, red hair and green eyes and golden armor shining, even just the tiny act of her huffs and sighs – maybe happenstance, maybe corrective, knowing somehow that Jaune was doing something wrong and she knew that he was and knew how to fix it – caused at once joy and pain. 

She was right there _(she was right there!)_ , watching him and correcting him as she always had.  But she was different now, and so, he knew, was he.  Pyrrha was a grimm.  She had changed fundamentally, both in body – _drastically_ , in body – and in mind, to an extent that they could not yet determine and might never fully understand.  Jaune had changed too.  Grief did a lot of things to a person, and Jaune had lost his partner and his school, and he knew he was not the same person as the boy who had attended Beacon and led a four-person team of Hunters-in-training. 

He’d lost one of those four.  But now he had her back.  Pyrrha huffed again, and Jaune moved his lead foot back to its correct position.  She was different, but she was back.  After everything, Jaune was going to take what he could get, and if that came in the form of his partner returning to him in the form of a grimm, then so be it. 

Things would never go back to the way they had been.  But maybe this could be okay too. 

*

Nora talked a lot.  All the time.  Most of it was just noise, talking for the sake of hearing a voice.  Ren was used to it, letting the sound flow over him, a comfort even when – especially when – his own voice could not form.  Other people were sometimes more confused, uncertain of why she was talking, or if they were supposed to respond. 

Pyrrha and Jaune had been like that at first, but they’d gotten used to it.  Jaune would sometimes answer, turning the babble into conversation, no matter how strange the topic was, but Pyrrha was more like Ren.  She just let it happen. 

That part was the same now.  Nora had disassembled Magnhild, the pieces scattered haphazardly on the grass around her as she wiped and cleaned and filed.  To anyone else it would look like she had just destroyed her own weapon with no hope of reassembly, but that was silly.  Nora knew Magnhild.  She could take her weapon apart and put it back together in the dark with one hand.  Sitting in a field on a sunny day, with Ren and Jaune training nearby and keeping an eye out for stray grimm?  This was a walk in the park. 

The grimm that was maybe probably hopefully Pyrrha lay nearby, dozing in the sun and half-interestedly watching Nora work on Magnhild.  As she always did, Nora talked, mostly about Magnhild and all the grimm she had squashed with it (maybe not the best topic with a _real actual grimm sitting right there,_ but Nora had never been known for her caution).  Pyrrha didn’t react much, but eventually Nora noticed the grimm’s ears had swiveled towards her, alert despite the creature’s relaxed posture.  Pyrrha was listening. 

Magnild was big and took time to work on properly.  Eventually, Nora’s topics moved from Magnhild to stories about Ren to pancakes to strawberries to picnics to combat training to Pyrrha herself. 

Pyrrha hadn’t been reacting much to the words.  She usually didn’t.  She would listen to Jaune and Ren and Nora talk, but there was rarely much response, and most of it was more of a reaction to the tone and mood than the actual conversation. 

But she was around them all the time, listening to conversations and arguments and planning.  Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Nora thought that over time Pyrrha had started reacting to some of the stories, just a little.  It wasn’t much, a chuff here, an oddly-timed snort there.  She was more attentive to the kind of stories before-Pyrrha might have liked, or tales of adventures she’d been on. 

Grimm don’t talk.  Not even weird maybe-probably-Pyrrha grimm.  Pyrrha didn’t even vocalize many grimm sounds, usually staying quiet (the Hunters, accustomed to “grimm noises equals danger” honestly kind of appreciated it) as she moved around the camp or sat with one of the team. 

Grimm didn’t talk, but Pyrrha was responding in a way that she hadn’t been before, Nora was certain.  At one point she told a story about Jaune dropping a bucket on his head when he tried to clean a set of windows, during the time JRN had spent at the Arc house after Pyrrha di – went away for a while, and the grimm actually snorted. 

Coincidence?  Understanding?   Nora didn’t really believe in coincidence.  She didn’t know how Pyrrha had come back to them, but she had.  Pyrrha was a grimm now, but she was also Pyrrha.  Different, but somewhere under the prickly fur and sharp spines of bone and glowing red eyes was the same Pyrrha who would listen to Nora talk for hours, occasionally responding with nods or questions or laughter but mostly just letting her teammate babble like a stream.  It was different now, but there was somehow a comfort anyway. 

Nora talked, and Pyrrha… Pyrrha _listened._  

*

For once, it was quiet.  Nora and Jaune had gone to the nearest village for a resupply, so it was just Ren and Pyrrha guarding the camp.  There wasn’t anything to guard against, though.  Ren could sense a grimm long before it appeared, and Pyrrha was now better than even that.  If there was a single grimm within a mile she would detect it and warn him.  But he was sensing nothing, and Pyrrha seemed totally relaxed.  For now, at least, there was no danger. 

Pyrrha was so relaxed, in fact, that she seemed to be at risk of falling asleep.  The beowolf was half-curled in to one side, front limbs stretched out and eyes closed.  Every breath was on the verge of a snore. 

Ren wasn’t helping matters.  He leaned against her side, an ebook on Aura control open on his scroll, reading.  Every once in a while he would reach over and pet his friend on the head, scratching gently at her neck between the bone spikes and stroking her ears.  Pyrrha rumbled her pleasure at the attention, a deep almost purring vibration Ren could feel in his spine. 

This was nice.  It was so rare for them to catch a break, even when they had been back at Beacon.  Now – well, now calm moments were few and far between, to put it lightly.  And there had been almost no pauses since they had gotten Pyrrha back, hardly any time to process what had happened. 

Ren knew the others were struggling with this.  He knew that Jaune had Pyrrha-whiplash – he had only just begun to accept his partner’s loss when she suddenly returned again (albeit more than a little bit different).  He knew that Nora, who had lost so much, was torn between her hope that Pyrrha had come back and her bitter knowledge that _people don’t come back_ , that none of the people she loved had ever returned to her.  He knew that both of them were still a little uncertain about their newly-returned teammate, and whether she really was what (who) Ren said she was.  

Ren had no doubts.  His team didn’t have the Aura control he did.  They couldn’t sense her like he could, couldn’t feel that same Aura, same energy, as she had before.  This was Pyrrha.  She was a beowolf now, in appearance at least, and her mind had been changed significantly (she was coming back, though, more and more).  But she was still Pyrrha.  Still Ren’s friend.  And he had lost enough – if the universe had finally decided to give him something back, he was going to take it. 

This moment wouldn’t last.  Soon, Nora would be back, Jaune in tow and both of them laden down with supplies.  They would be loud and energetic, and would probably want dinner.  Jaune would tell Ren stories about the people they saw in the village, Nora would complain about Dust prices and grenade quality, and Ren would listen and nod and keep Nora from burning her tongue on her soup. 

Pyrrha would sit nearby, watching, and when Jaune gets to the funny parts she would close her eyes and open her mouth and _laugh,_ looking and sounding like a particularly monstrous dog; but somewhere in there would be an echo of Pyrrha, of who she used to be.  Whenever Pyrrha really laughed, full and unrestrained, her eyes always pressed shut, squinting in humor.  She would laugh until she couldn’t breathe, panting with the best kind of exhaustion and eyes barely open. 

The beowolf did the same thing. 

(Ren would never say it – it wasn’t good enough evidence – but it was almost that more than anything that cemented his certainty that _this was Pyrrha._   Grimm didn’t laugh.  Grimm didn’t shut their red eyes in anything but rage, and this grimm laughed just like Pyrrha.  It was a tiny detail, almost meaningless, but it meant the world.  It meant _Pyrrha._ )

Later, their team would be back, and noise would fill the camp.  There would be talking and laughing and stories, and all three of them would bother Ren to hurry with dinner they were absolutely _dying_ of hunger.  Ren would go no faster, and they would get dinner when it was ready.  The racket wouldn’t settle until it was time to sleep, and even then Nora snored and Jaune talked in his sleep and sometimes Pyrrha even snuffled. 

Later, there would be talking and fighting and interaction and _living_.  But for now it was just Ren and Pyrrha.  Sunlight filtered through the trees and the air was quiet.  Pyrrha was almost asleep, deep sighs shifting her side against Ren’s back.  He could feel her heart beating deep within, a different physical heart for the same heart he knew. 

Later there would be sound and movement and things to do.  For now, Ren could relax in the quiet company of a teammate and friend he had missed dearly. 

The wind murmured through the leaves like someone’s lost whisper, far away.  There were no monsters here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from susan enan's song bring on the wonder
> 
> also, it’s still under construction, but i do [the tumblr](https://luoup.tumblr.com/) if you wanna come yell about things over there


	3. Monster (How Should I Feel?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a secret too big to be kept. 
> 
> Pyrrha meets others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year! 
> 
> it has been a century and a half since i updated Return, but i am back and will hopefully bang out the last two chapters relatively quickly. i've loved the response to this fic, especially since it felt so strange and out-there when i first started. thank you, and enjoy the new chapter!

Nora didn’t like secrets.  Secrets didn’t end well, not ever. But there was no easy way to tell this secret.  There was no easy way to break to anyone what had happened to Pyrrha. 

RWBY was coming to meet JRN, and JRN couldn’t figure out how to tell them that it was JNPR now, again.  Impossibly.  That Pyrrha was back. 

They had tried to think of how to tell them, a message or a call or something – but nothing had worked.  How could you tell your friends that your other friend, who had died so violently and so recently, was back – but in the form of your worst enemy?  That she had returned but was fundamentally changed in the most impossible of ways? 

There was no way to tell it.  But that meant that now Team RWBY was standing there, staring in shock at the reunited JNPR.  Jaune, worn and aged beyond his years but with a confidence he had never shown before.  Ren, tired but strong, relying on his team as they relied upon him.  Nora, bright despite it all, determined to _exist_ despite everything the world threw at her. 

And Pyrrha.  A beowolf sitting beside Jaune, massive dark body overshadowing his snow-and-gold armor, eyes gleaming red from within the shadows of her bone-mask.  A grimm – the enemy.  But she wasn’t attacking.  And neither was JRN.  She was on edge, certainly, ears up and tail stiff, tense at the appearance of other humans, but she wasn’t fighting. 

RWBY was smart – they saw the whole picture.  JNR stood there with a grimm at their side, impossibly.  The grimm sat tense but steady, as if waiting for the others before doing anything.  And around its neck was a familiar red sash. 

They put the pieces together. 

“We’re sorry,” Jaune blurted.  “We – we wanted to tell you.  But we didn’t know how.”  One hand stroked the bristly black fur of the grimm’s back as if the movement could hide the shaking in his hands. 

“It’s Pyrrha.”

Nora watched the reactions flicker over her friends’ faces.  She didn’t know what she wanted.  She cared about Team RWBY, more than anyone in the world besides Ren and Jaune and Pyrrha.  But if they took this badly, if they moved against Pyrrha in her new form, she knew what side she would choose.  She hoped she didn’t have to choose.  There were few enough people Nora loved in the world, she didn’t want to lose any more. 

Ruby was staring, blank shock and pain on her face.  The little leader had been with Pyrrha when she died, had watched it happen and been helpless to stop it.  Sometimes Nora wondered if that day would have gone differently if she’d been there instead, or Ren, or Jaune, or all of them.  If they’d been there for Pyrrha, stood by her side, maybe something would have changed. 

Or maybe they all would have died instead.  There was no changing the past, Nora knew that better than anyone.  Ruby had been alone, and Pyrrha had died. 

Weiss looked stunned, lost.  She’d hero-worshipped Pyrrha for so long, and had only just started getting to know the girl beneath all the fame, truly becoming friends with the Undefeatable Girl, before everything had happened.  To see her in this form, now, must be a shock.  It had certainly been to Nora. 

Yang didn’t believe it.  Nora could see it on her face.  The boxer thought it was a trick, or a dream, or a lie.  Nora had, too.  She’d fought with Ren about it, convinced that he was somehow wrong, that this wasn’t real.  But it was, and he’d known it, and he’s stayed fast until Nora and Jaune finally saw it too.  Yang didn’t know Pyrrha, not well, and she had no reason to believe that this grimm was the same as the powerful warrior from Beacon.  She was wrong. 

Blake was the opposite.  She knew it was true.  Blake was good at lies, at deception.  She could hide in plain sight, vanish in a battle.  Blake knew what lies were, and she knew that this was not one.  This grimm was Pyrrha, no matter how unbelievable it seemed. 

Yang’s disbelief, Blake’s understanding, Ruby and Weiss’s pain and uncertainty.  Nora’s hands twisted on Magnhild, knuckles tensing white with anxiety.  This was the moment.  This was when RWBY would decide whether to accept the new JNPR, or reject it.  This decided everything. 

 _This is Pyrrha._

“You have got to be joking.”  Unsurprisingly, Yang broke the shocked, stunned silence that had settled over the group. 

Blake’s voice was quiet but serious.  “They wouldn’t joke about this.” 

Ruby, almost imperceptibly, flinched. 

Weiss stayed silent for almost too long, thoughts and questions clearly roiling within.  Then, “Are you absolutely certain?  I mean, how is this possible?  How can you know–”

“Yes,” Jaune said at the same time Ren said, “We know.”  Nora stayed quiet, hands twisting and untwisting against Magnhild’s unyielding metal. 

The Schnee heiress looked from one of them to the next, hard and slow.  She stared at Pyrrha the longest, then glanced back at them.  “Okay,” she said. 

“‘Okay?’”  Yang asked.  “‘ _Okay?’_   What do you mean, ‘okay?’  None of this is okay!  This–” she gestured almost violently at Pyrrha with her metal arm, “this is not okay!  That’s a _grimm_ , and they’re saying it’s – that it’s–”

“I trust them,” Ruby said, the first words she had spoken since seeing Pyrrha.  Her voice was quiet but certain.  “Blake’s right.  None of us would make this up.”

Yang stared at her sister, then at the grimm, then back.  Ruby watched her with silver eyes that had dimmed so much since the Undefeatable Girl’s death – dimmed, but not gone out.  The grimm’s eyes were the color of Ruby’s cloak, the color of fresh blood.  They weren’t Pyrrha’s eyes.  But they weren’t the eyes of a mindless monster.  “This isn’t possible,” she muttered. 

Jaune’s laugh was hollow.  “Believe me,” he said, “we know.  We know that it’s impossible, that it’s unbelievable, that it’s unreasonable.  But it’s true.  We don’t know why and we don’t know how.  But it is.”

And RWBY accepted that.  They were all still hurting from Pyrrha’s death, from the loss of Beacon and everything that had happened.  Yang’s arm was made of metal.  Blake was out for vengeance.  Weiss had lost the last of her faith in her family.  Ruby felt like she was walking in darkness with no light to guide her, to guard her.  The world was in turmoil.  If their friends could get their teammate back, no matter the form or circumstances, then so be it. 

In the very beginning, RWBY had formed fast friends with JNPR.  They had lived together, studied together, trained together, fought together. 

They had lost Beacon together.  RWBY had been scattered to the winds, JNPR had been shattered irreparably.  They could heal, but things would never be the same. 

And that hadn’t changed.  Pyrrha had returned but she was different, in body and in mind.  She was a grimm – no red collar-ribbon could change that.  But she was alive, and she was not a monster.  It was enough for JNPR, and it would be enough for RWBY. 

The rest of the visit was almost… normal, or as normal as things could be, given the circumstances.  Ruby wanted to meet Pyrrha, and Yang wouldn’t leave her side although Pyrrha showed no indication of aggression. 

The grimm sniffed delicately at the hand Ruby offered, making considering grumbling noises that Nora translated as _‘Hi, Ruby!  I missed you!  You smell good!’_ and made even Yang laugh.  Pyrrha seemed to accept Ruby almost as easily as she had JRN and was soon allowing the girl to pet her ears and stroke the bone-spikes protruding from her shoulders.  Yang stood nearby and watched, internal struggle visible in her eyes. 

“She really is good,” Nora said quietly, making Yang jump.  The little Valkyrie could be surprisingly sneaky when she wasn’t smashing things or talking a mile a minute.  “I didn’t trust either, at first.  And maybe I don’t expect you to believe us, no matter what we say.  It’s totally nuts and completely impossible, and yet here we are.”

Yang was silent for a while, watching her little sister pet a grimm that wore the sash of one of her dead friends.  Eventually she said, “I don’t know what to believe.  Obviously this isn’t normal.  I don’t know if this is Pyrrha.  I don’t know what would prove that to me. 

“But impossible things happen sometimes, I guess.” Ruby’s eyes seemed to catch the light from the fire, from Pyrrha’s shiny bone plates, glowing just a little more.  “I’m not going to attack her or anything.  Either Pyrrha’s back or you guys just adopted the weirdest grimm in all of Remnant.” Nora snorted at that.  Yang smiled and continued a little more quietly, “Whatever happened, I’m glad you’re happy.”

“We are,” Nora murmured, and Pyrrha’s ear flicked towards her teammate, tail thumping gently in the dust. 

Weiss had gone to help Ren make food for the two teams.  In the process she was asking about a million questions, all of which Ren answered quietly and carefully.  When Pyrrha had appeared, how she’d acted, how things had changed, what she ate, how she responded to JRN compared to other humans, her fighting style, whether she slept, everything. 

He gave her all he had.  “Have you ever read or heard about anything like this?”  Ren and Nora had never had much time for reading, and Jaune wasn’t exactly a studious person either.  None of them had any background to judge this on. 

Weiss thought for a long time.  Finally, she sighed.  “No.  Never.” She stirred the pot when Ren passed her a spoon, handing him the vegetables she’d chopped.  “I mean, some people think that grimm are the tormented souls of the dead returned to haunt and hunt us, but that’s pretty clearly not what’s happening here.  She isn’t hunting you.  There’s been nothing to indicate aggression in her behavior towards you since the beginning, and she only seems to be getting better – or I guess, less grimm-like and more human-like, to be more accurate.”  She gave a helpless shrug.  “I don’t think this has ever happened before.”

Ren sighed.  “I thought so.”

“What are you going to do?” Weiss asked quietly, watching the pseudo-ninja out of the corner of her eye.

He finished mincing the herbs and tossed them in.  “What we’ve been doing.  There’s nothing else to do.  There’s nothing else we can do.  She’s here for a reason.  She’s still ours.  And… if anything happens to her, again, I don’t know what we would do.”

Weiss nodded quietly.  She couldn’t imagine losing a teammate.  Admittedly, Team RWBY had gotten off to a pretty rough start – and she wasn’t too proud to admit that that had been mostly on her – but they had grown close and she didn’t know what she would do if any of them died.  JNPR had experienced the worst, and then they’d gotten her back.  Weiss couldn’t really blame them for staying with Pyrrha, no matter how different she was now. 

Standing a distance away in the growing shadows of duskfall, Jaune and Blake watched the rest of their teams.  Neither one had spoken, and it was uncertain whether they were standing guard or just thinking. 

Out of nowhere, Blake spoke, making Jaune jump at the sound of her voice.  “Nobody can know about this.”

Jaune coughed, clearing his throat from choking slightly in surprise.  “What?”

Blake’s golden eyes seemed to glow in the increasing darkness.  “You can’t tell anyone about this.  What happened to Pyrrha.  People would… they’d react badly, afraid or angry or desperate.  They would kill her, or take her for experimentation. 

“I’m glad you chose to tell us.  I think it’ll really help Ruby, especially.  But nobody else can know.  It’s dangerous, both for her and for you.  She’s a grimm, and although you can see Pyrrha in there – and maybe we can too, eventually – others almost certainly won’t.  They’ll see a dangerous monster, a creature humans have fought for centuries, something that threatens all of civilization.  And they could turn on the three of you as well, for letting her in, for protecting her, for believing.  It’s dangerous.”

“I know,” Jaune sighed.  “This is nuts.  If I was someone else, I’d think I was crazy.  But we can’t lose her.  Not again.  Maybe nobody will trust us, maybe this means our lives as we knew them are over.  But we’re staying with her.  No matter what.” 

Blake smiled, and it was tiny but real.  “I would expect no less.  And we’ll always be on your side – Pyrrha’s your teammate, but she was – _is_ – our friend too.  We’ll help any way we can.” 

Nothing would ever be the same again.  JNPR and RWBY had been reunited, but things were different now.  Yang’s metal arm glinted in the light of the setting sun.  Blake’s ears twitched as the breeze changed direction, small but noticeable in the wild waves of dark hair.  Weiss looked more serious, more determined.  Ruby’s eyes were older than they should be.  Jaune’s armor was different, his shield bearing a circlet that didn’t belong to him.  Ren watched the shadows, determined to protect what he had left.  Nora was more ferocious than she used to be; she had lost her world one too many times and would do whatever she had to to keep it from happening again.  And Pyrrha – well.  The changes in Pyrrha, significant and numerous, were obvious enough. 

Things had changed.  _They_ had changed.  But JNPR was reunited, and so was RWBY.  They were still friends, still on the same side.  They sat around the fire, seven Hunters and Huntresses and one Huntress-turned-grimm, and although things were irreversibly different, there was a comforting familiarity. 

The world was no longer what it had been.  But some things would never change. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from monster by meg and dia
> 
> the tumblr exists [here](https://luoup.tumblr.com/)


	4. I Found Love Where It Wasn't Supposed to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JNPR settles into their new normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uh. i thought i posted this like 2 weeks ago. but as is pretty obvious, i did not. i am very sorry. 
> 
> i am bound and determined to get this sprawling thing done. the last chapter will 100% promise be done by the end of february (i'm leaving tomorrow for a week and won't have my computer), and hopefully the extra bit will be up sometime soonish as well. 
> 
> thank you for your patience.

Time passed, and JNPR settled into their new normal. 

It wasn’t easy, being the – first?  only? – team with a grimm as one of its members.  At least one person was with Pyrrha at all times, meaning they never went into town all together.  They kept it a secret as best they could, knowing the potential reactions leaned more towards fear and violence than anything else. 

Things were different.  They were still JNPR, and Pyrrha was still Pyrrha, but she had changed.  Aside from the literal physical differences – broad and heavy and dark as shadow where before she had been gold and fire, light and lithe and lightning-fast, glowing red eyes replacing leaf-green – she was of course unable to speak, with a mind that processed and functioned differently than before. 

Jaune described the new Pyrrha as being half-Pyrrha, half-dog, and half-huge-grimm-monster.  It was a bizarre and definitely illogical explanation, but it wasn’t wrong.  Nora seemed to flip back and forth between treating her like a teammate and like a pet, neither of which Pyrrha seemed to mind strangely enough.  Ren, as far as the others could tell, was behaving exactly the same as he had when Pyrrha had been human.  Their interactions had always been quiet, simply existing together without a need for many words.  Even now, with everything so changed, Pyrrha still relaxed whenever Ren was around.  Jaune felt lost sometimes, uncertain of how to act around her.  She had been his teammate, his partner.  She still was, kind of, but she was also a grimm, and very different in every way than she had been before. 

Pyrrha had grown to be comfortable with JNPR, acting relaxed and even affectionate whenever she was near them.  She never showed the slightest sign of aggression towards any member of her team.  With Team RWBY, she was mostly neutral, ignoring them if they left her alone.  The beowolf would let Ruby pet her and talk to her, but she didn’t engage, didn’t respond to her friend the way she did with JRN.  Weiss and Yang mostly just watched her from a distance, hopeful and doubtful, and although Blake always gave the grimm a wide berth, she never acted distrustful of the creature that had once been her fellow student. 

They avoided contact with all other humans.  JNPR stayed away from even small villages, only one or two going in if they were low on supplies, keeping Pyrrha away from other people as best they could.  They didn’t know how she would react – would she behave, friendly or at least calm like she was with RWBY, or would she attack?  It was still unclear how much of this beowolf was Pyrrha and how much was grimm, and they didn’t want to push their luck. 

But this was how it was going to be.  JNPR had dealt with obstacles before.  This was a little different, sure, but they could do it.  Pyrrha had changed.  So had Jaune, and Nora, and Ren.  Nothing would ever be the same again, but this was how things were going to be now, so they would make it work. 

* * *

“I don’t care what anyone else says.” Nora was trying for nonchalant but it came off a little too aggressive.  “She’s ours.  And we’re hers.  Doesn’t matter if she’s a beowolf now, we’re not leaving our teammate behind.”

“No one’s disagreeing with you,” Ren said, but he was looking at the ground and not meeting anyone’s eyes.  “But we need to talk about this.”

“What is there to talk about?” The aggression was getting stronger.  Nora was feeling backed into a corner, no right answers, and she was lashing out. 

“This is going to change everything,” Jaune said, trying to placate his teammate and stop the fight before it could start.  He’d never seen anything worse than Ren and Nora fighting.  “We just need to figure out how this is going to work.”

“Pyrrha’s a grimm now,” Ren said, finally looking up although he stared at a nearby tree branch instead of Nora’s angry (frightened) eyes.  “We know it’s her, but nobody else will believe that.  We’re Hunters, we’re supposed to _kill_ grimm, not team up with them.  People – people won’t understand this.  They’ll try to kill her, or us.  We won’t have support.”

“When have we ever?” Nora muttered. 

Ren sighed, his whole body draining of tension.  “I know.”  He reached out almost hesitantly, but Nora grabbed his hand as soon as she saw it, clinging tightly.  “It’s just going to be another change.”

“We’ll still have each other,” Jaune said.  “That’s why we’re doing this, after all.  To stay with our teammate.  Maybe other people won’t understand, but – well.  We’ve always been a weird team, haven’t we? 

“I don’t care if nobody understands.” Nora’s uncertainty about Pyrrha had morphed over the last few weeks into a ferocious, almost desperate confidence.  Pyrrha was Pyrrha, and Nora would fight anyone who said otherwise.  She’d win, too.  “I don’t.  She’s _ours._ ”

“And we’re hers.  This is going to change everything, but that isn’t going to stop us from doing it.  She’s staying, and so are we.”

It wasn’t a question.  JNPR had been outcasts from the beginning, too weird and too different to fit in with most of the other Beacon students and the rest of the world.  Now, with a grimm for a teammate, they would never be accepted.  But they were okay with that, because they had Pyrrha back.  That was all that mattered.  JNPR would be set apart from the rest of the world, maybe even ostracized, but all they’d ever needed was each other.  Now that they had that back – well.  The rest of the world could just deal.  JNPR was whole and united.  They had each other.  Together, they could do anything. 

It would be okay. 

* * *

* * *

 

_The first thing she knows is darkness.  Shadows, flickering and rippling, broken only by red eyes and sharp teeth.  The scent of blood._

_And then, light.  A feeling like a candle flame in a snowstorm, drawing her to it as if she was a moth instead of a beowolf.  She reaches out, and the storm calms, dies._

_It’s a crown.  No.  It isn’t a crown, but she knows it.  This belongs to her._

_They belong to her.  There are three.  One bears her crown, white plating like hers shielding his form.  One smells like the air before a lightning strike, concentrated and powerful.  One almost vanishes, even to her senses, but she knows him too._

_Their words are water over rocks, meaningless but familiar.  She has never smelled them before, but the scents are familiar nonetheless.  They look different, but she knows them._

_There is no process to it.  This is where she is to be, and so she is._

_She stays._

_Small hands running along her sides, strokes on the ridges of bone that burst from her hide, fingertips behind her ears.  More words, in different voices and different tones.  Smells of uncertainty and hope.  A banner like a flag (victory? loss?) placed around her neck, and she lets it.  It is hers too, although it only smells like_ gold _._

 _There aren’t… memories, exactly.  She doesn’t_ remember _them, not in clarity, not in events.  But she knows them, and they know her, even though things are not as they once were.  She knows her crown and the length of red wrapped around her neck.  She knows the sound of gold, the crackle of pink, the shadow of green.  This is hers._

_And Pyrrha stays._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pyrrha bit was v experimental and weird to write, but i really really wanted to have something from her pov
> 
> title from i found by amber run


	5. I Count My Time In Dog Years (Oh, And I'm the One That Loves You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JNPR persists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i am sorry i have no concept of time (it’s been six months since the start of this thing holy shit). it’s that time of semester again (3 exams this week yippee), i’ve been wildly busy with school and travel, i'm moving in a month, i completely forgot to post the final chapter of return, and i am so sorry. here it is. 
> 
> thank you for reading, and i hope you've enjoyed this weird sidetheorystoryidea of a monstrous – or not so monstrous – pyrrha.

The ursa roars, a tremendous earth-shaking sound that makes the leaves of the trees tremble and the very air itself vibrate with the force. 

The beowolf roars right back.  She isn’t half the size of the ursa, but she wastes no time charging the other grimm headlong, dodging the swipe of its heavy claws and sinking her teeth into its throat.  She snaps her body to the side, all of her considerable force thrown into the movement, and the ursa’s bellow dies in its chest as its throat is torn out and it turns to dust.  The air hasn’t even cleared before the beowolf is searching for her next target, smoke on her tongue and blood in her eyes. 

“I think that was the last of them,” Jaune calls, and Pyrrha’s ears perk at the sound of his voice.  She wheels around and lopes back towards her partner, sniffing him over and growling quietly when she comes across a smear of blood on one vambrace.  “I’m okay,” he reassures, one hand petting gently across her snout.  “It’s just a scratch.  Ren got it before anything else could happen.”

Pyrrha snorts, unamused.   No miracles have happened in the last five years, she hasn’t magically turned back into herself even after so much time.  She is still a grimm.  But she is also Pyrrha, and they understand her as well as if she could speak.  _Sloppy, Jaune.  Don’t let it get so close next time._  

“Yeah yeah, Jaune did a dumb and he better pay attention and not let it happen again.  But everything’s okay, and we’re all fine.  And all the grimm are dead!  Except you, but that’s a good thing.  Mission accomplished!” 

Some things don’t change: Nora Valkyrie is seemingly exactly the same as she had been as a teenager – a child, really – at Beacon Academy.  Her hair is longer, a puff of a ponytail draped over one shoulder, but her eyes are the same, bright teal and sparkling. 

Ren emerges from the trees like a shadow, green and soundless in his movements.  “Mission accomplished,” he agrees.  “We should go back and tell the village that the horde is gone.  The celebrations will do a lot to keep any strays from sticking around.”

“Celebrations!” Nora lights up like a five-year-old at the thought, bouncing a little in place.  “Do you think they’ll have cake?”

Ren and Jaune share an amused glance at the familiar childishness of their teammate.  Jaune folds the shield of Crocea Mors into a sheath and slides the blade in.  “Let’s go find out.”

The village doesn’t have cake, but it does have other food, and the villagers are more than happy to share what they have with their saviors.  The grimm ambling along behind the Hunters is a little alarming, but these are people who had fully expected to die before JNPR had arrived.  They aren’t going to question their rescuers, and even if some eye the beast with worry and distrust, the Hunters did their job, didn’t they?  They stopped the other grimm.  This one, with its red scarf and relaxed air, is strange but in the grand scheme it isn’t their problem. 

Maybe these Hunters are a little odd, traveling with a grimm and treating it like one of them, but they were the only ones who had come to the village’s aid.  That far outweighs any concerns anyone might have had.  The villagers give the tame grimm a wide berth, but they allow JNPR – grimm and all – into their town to celebrate their victory over the hordes. 

Nobody here has ever met any of JNPR before.  If they had, they would have noticed the changes that had taken place since they were young students at a Hunter academy, changes both physical and psychological. 

Nora’s hair is longer than it had been when she was younger, a cloud of spark-orange draped over one shoulder like an explosion the instant before it bursts.  Her skin bears the marks of accidents with her weapon – no one could ever be fully safe from something so powerful – but her eyes are just as bright as when she’d been young.  The world has tried to bring her down all through her life, but Nora is not brought down so easily.  She will win through sheer determination alone, and she’s proven it time and again. 

Ren’s eyes have faded in color with age, pale ash-rose, but his Aura shields were as vibrant as Magnhild’s grenades and more powerful than ever.  His hair is even longer now, sleek and braided to his waist.  His ability to sense danger has never failed them, detecting grimm and bandits and Hunters who want his teammate dead.  Pyrrha herself, monster though she may appear, has never triggered that sense, not even the first time she appeared.  That alone is still maybe one of the best arguments for her being real and what they believe she is.  Despite the team’s semi-exile, Ren is maybe the happiest he has ever been.  He’s doing what he’s always wanted to do – Hunt, protect those who had no protectors – and he has his closest friends at his side.  There is nothing more that he could want in life. 

Jaune looks maybe the least changed of all of them in appearance, although he’s maybe changed the most mentally.  He still has his white armor, more battered now but still strong.  His hair is the same color as the shining golden arcs emblazoned on his shield, shadowed by the darker bronze of a curving band beneath.  The leader’s face has more lines than someone his age should, but he’s a Hunter and has lived through a lot.  It’s only to be expected.  He has grown up and come into his own, as a Hunter and a leader and a man.  He could probably do anything he wanted in life, work with a popular team or teach at a prestigious academy or do anything else he wanted.  But he doesn’t want.  All Jaune wants is to stay with his friends, his team.  His partner is different now than she had been when they were in school together, but she is still Pyrrha to him, changed or not.  Their team is ostracized, living on the outskirts, but they are together and they are Hunting and they are happy.  Jaune is happy.  All he’s ever wanted to do was be a Hunter, protect people.  He’d lied his way into Beacon, watched the world fall around him, and risen from the ashes.  Jaune Arc is a Hunter, and he is happy with his life. 

Pyrrha, conversely to her partner, has changed the most.  She’s completely different physically, of course, and they might never truly understand her mind.  She still wears the tattered red sash, well-worn and well-mended by Ren’s careful stitches, around a neck spiked with white bone.  The color matches her glowing scarlet eyes.  This is not a human, but it is not a grimm either.  Pyrrha now is less of a beast than she had been when they’d first found her, but she hasn’t changed magically into “original-Pyrrha-in-a-grimm’s-body.”  She has some of the mind of a creature, and some of the mind of Pyrrha.  It’s enough for the others to recognize her within her new skin, even if nobody else might ever see Pyrrha Nikos inside the beast.  Pyrrha knows Jaune, gold, leader.  She knows Nora, bright rosefire and lightning.  She knows Ren, shadowy green.  The rest of the world is less than significant. 

JNPR has changed.  They are not the same people who entered Beacon Academy so long ago.  Years have passed, a lifetime it seems.  They have fought.  They have lost.  And they have won. 

They sit in the home of the second-in-command councilwoman, as it is the least-damaged building in the whole village.  They eat what they are given and thank the servers for it.  Jaune has a scratch on his cheek and Ren’s sleeve is torn, and Nora smells like gunpowder and her bangs are singed.  But they won.  These people are safe and able to make soup and talk about rebuilding the town hall, because they won. 

JNPR is a strange team.  They’ve grown exponentially, are quite likely some of the best Hunters out there.  They could have a lot, if they wanted – fame, money, backup.  But JNPR belongs to no guild, partners with no academy.  They hardly exist.  They never go to the central parts of the kingdoms, instead remaining on the outskirts, in the wildernesses.  They only work with each other, taking jobs in the furthest-flung reaches of Remnant, alone but for each other. 

(Nobody would work with them anyway.  Not with a grimm at their side – and they won’t work without her.) 

It’s a strange way of living, but it’s how they’ve been since that day five years ago when a grimm turned on its own to save Jaune, when a grimm touched its nose to a golden band in a bone-white shield, when a grimm turned out to be Pyrrha. 

Because here’s the thing: JNPR has never been special, but they have never been normal either.  A talentless liar, a pair of nobody orphans, a famed warrior who didn’t want to be who she was.  They were outcasts from the beginning.  Maybe that’s what made it so easy, to abandon their old lives and put everything they had into living and working with this creature.  No – that’s not quite right.  That did make it easier, certainly, but they would have done anything, to get her back.  So when the opportunity was handed to them on a silver platter (maybe with a few cosmetic changes, but what did they care?), it wasn’t even a question. 

They’ve always been outsiders, and now they would never be truly accepted.  Loser, strays, they had already been on the edges, and now with a grimm at their side nobody even comes near.  But they’re okay with that, because they have Pyrrha back.  They have JNPR back. 

All they had ever wanted to do was Hunt.  Jaune had wanted to feel like he could do something, like he was worth something.  He wanted to feel worthy of his bloodline, worthy of his family’s sword.  Ren and Nora wanted to keep what had happened to them from happening to other people, to other children.  They knew what happened when the Hunters didn’t come, and they never wanted anyone else to experience that.  Pyrrha wanted to fight – really fight, not arena combat.  She wanted to fight monsters, to do good.  What good was fame and skill if others still suffered? 

They had been children at a school that trained children to hunt monsters.  The world had collapsed, crumbled in fire, but they had risen, changed but at the same time not changed at all.  They’d done it.  They fought grimm almost every day now, moving from village to village and defending people from the darkness that surrounded them.  JNPR were outcasts to Hunters, strange at best and lost-their-minds mad at worst, but the people who needed saving didn’t care.  When your life and the lives of those you love is threatened by monsters, you’ll take any protector willing to protect – even if one of them looks just like the monsters themselves. 

JNPR are Hunters, and they are going to Hunt.  They’ve completed their task in the little village, and although the thankfulness was earnest, welcome is worn out quickly when there is still a grimm nearby, even if she’s one of the good guys.  They know this, it’s not unusual.  The Hunters finish their food, say their goodbyes, and leave as the sun begins to touch the mountains in the distance. 

“So, where to next?” Nora walks backwards to look at Jaune and Ren as Pyrrha ambles beside her. 

“Probably camp first,” Ren says before Jaune can say anything.  “We need to look over our supplies before we get into another big fight.”

“Camp first,” Jaune agrees.  “And then… I got a message from Blake a few days ago about a horde somewhere to the east of our location.  Near a village called – Betula?  We could make it in a day or two if we walk fast.”

“Then Betula, here we come!” Nora smacks a fist into her palm.  “That last horde was _weak_ , I didn’t even get to use my big grenades.”

“Your big grenades would blow up a city block.”

“A lot of grimm could fit in a city block!  I want a _challenge!”_

“Aw, Nora, don’t jinx it!  Last time you said that I almost got swallowed by a nevermore!”

Pyrrha lets out a barking laugh as Ren sighs.  This team is ridiculous.

Nora and Pyrrha gather wood while Jaune and Ren set out the bedrolls.  The sky is clear and the stars are coming out, scatterings of brightness as the sunlight fades.  Three beds and a big blanket are laid out around a firepit Nora made with the lightest setting on Magnhild, and Jaune digs in his pack for flint.  Pyrrha and Nora come back, both Valkyrie and beowolf’s arms full of sticks.  Like this, on two feet instead of four, Pyrrha easily towers over even Ren, the tallest human of the team.  It’s always been a funny sight, a beowolf carrying wood or blankets or tent poles in its arms like a particularly fluffy assistant.  She moves differently than a human, but it’s so _human_ as to be almost startling, although they’re all used to it by now.  Both drop their bundles near the pit and Nora takes the flint from Jaune, using it and the handle of Magnhild to spark up a campfire as Pyrrha goes to lay down with a huge sigh beside Ren. 

Once the fire is bright and crackling Nora joins them, settling on Jaune’s other side and reaching across him to scratch Pyrrha at the edges of her mask.  The beowolf makes a creaky sound in pleasure and leans towards her, forcing Jaune to shift to the side in order to not be stabbed in the ribs by her shoulder-spikes.  He complains until Nora shoves him, laughing, and Pyrrha sets her head on his lap with a sigh that clearly says, _Now shush, I’m sleeping._  

Ren eventually digs out the first aid kit and treats the scratches and bruises all four of them are carrying.  Nora wasn’t lying, this had been a relatively small horde and nobody was seriously injured, but not even the best Hunters in the world can make it through a fight without some bumps.  Once the damage is patched up, he tugs off his coat and sets to patching that too, sewing up the tear in the sleeve with smooth, fluid movements.  In his black turtleneck, black hair loose and unbraided, he almost disappears in the darkness, only his pale skin and paler eyes catching the light. 

Pyrrha, too, is dark, reflecting firelight on her bone plates and in her burning red eyes but vanishingly still and shadowy otherwise.  She could be carved from lavaflow, except for the gentle rise and fall of her side and the warmth brushing across Nora’s legs where the Valkyrie sits petting her friend’s ears. 

They talk quietly.  Jaune pulls out the map and his Scroll, the case battered with a crack running down the right side of the screen but still functional, and he and Nora argue about what route to take to Betula until Pyrrha snorts, sits up, and puts one huge clawed paw on the map, revealing the path they had both missed.  It’s shorter and winds between huge mountains that would take hours to traverse otherwise.  If they take it, they’ll probably beat the grimm to the village. 

“Right as always, Pyrrha,” Jaune sighs as Nora rolls over on the ground, groaning something about _I was totally going to point that one out next_ , and Ren stifles a laugh.  Pyrrha huffs and drops her head back down.  It’s hard to tell on a canid face behind a bone-plate mask, but she looks like she’s smiling. _Of course._

“Speaking of Blake telling you where the grimm are–”

“Nora, nobody was talking about that, what are you–”

“–when are we calling RWBY again?”

Jaune sighs.  He gave up trying to follow Nora’s rollercoaster of thought years ago.  “Soon, I think?  Blake didn’t suggest a specific time, but it has been a while.”

“Betula might have CC signal, but I don’t think we should count on it,” Ren says, tying off his thread.  “We need to find a bigger town with merchants to restock food and ammunition, so we can call them then.”

“Ooh, maybe we’ll find a Dust shop, I had an awesome dream where Magnhild had lightning grenades and it was _the coolest thing._   I want electricity Dust now.”

“Please don’t mix your grenades on the tent’s rainsheet this time,” Jaune groans.  He leans back, bracing his hands on the ground.  “I’ll stay with Pyrrha, I don’t need anything specific.”

“Check your pack after Betula,” Ren points out, “because last time you said that you lost your water bottle and only noticed after we got back.”

Jaune grimaces.  “Right.”  Pyrrha chuffs at him with a teasing look that shouldn’t be possible on such a face as hers. 

Soon they settle down for the night.  Ren takes first watch as Jaune and Nora crawl into their sleeping bags and Pyrrha stretches out on her blanket.  He drops into a state of semi-conscious meditation, senses open for movement or danger but certain in his knowledge that they’re safe for the night.  There are no grimm nearby. 

Pyrrha has never once triggered that sense.  She’s Pyrrha, after all. 

In the morning they rise early and pack up their things.  The sky is bright and they have all slept well after clearing the horde yesterday, and they are ready for the walk to Betula. 

Nobody could have ever expected this.  They’re nameless, aimless Hunters now, wandering the wilderness, hunting grimm and helping people when they can.  One of them holds the shape of a monster.  This isn’t what any of them might have expected, back before, but they can’t quite bring themselves to care.  RJNR is over, JRN is over.  They’re back to JNPR now, and although nobody will ever really be able to understand, it doesn’t matter.  All that matters now is this, them. 

Nora carries the massive Magnhild as if it’s a child’s hammer.  Her hair is sparkfire-bright, eyes lit up like stormclouds, her whole body thrumming with energy.  She’s ready.  On her back is a bronze circle, battered but whole.  Akoúo̱ is still a shield, still working against the darkness. 

In his worn green coat, Ren almost fades into the forest itself.  But they don’t forget him, don’t pass him over.  He is theirs, as they are his.  StormFlower are bound to his sides, ready to cut and sting like nettle leaves, and Miló is slung over his shoulder – besides Pyrrha, he is the only one with the patience, accuracy, and skill to wield it.  It had taken a lot to restore the javelin-xiphos-rifle to a whole and functional form, but it was well worth the effort. 

Jaune doesn’t have his partner’s weapons.  He has his own, and he has learned to use them well.  But his shield bears her circlet, shadowed beneath his family crest, and for him that’s as good as any blade. 

After everything, after the forest and the fire and all these years, Pyrrha is still beside them.  Fundamentally changed, but still familiar, even if only to these three.  The tattered red sash tied around her neck is the only thing that marks her as different from any other mindless monstrous beowolf, but they can tell her from the hordes without a glance.  She came back to them from beyond fire and shadow, and although she might be different now – deeply, impossibly different – she is still her, still their Pyrrha. 

The sun shines brightly, illuminating pink, green, gold, red.  They pack up the camp and make it a hundred yards down one path before realizing Nora had the map upside-down and backtracking.  Bickering and birdsong ripple through the quiet of the forest, weighted footsteps and light soundless movements and the heavy tread of something that is not human nor animal, but there is no danger, not here.  Later there will be fighting, and resting, and the cycle will begin again, but for now it is just them and the forest, ready to do the work they had always dreamed of doing.  They are enough for each other, they always will be. 

And together JNPR vanishes into the wilderness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew. it is done. there’s a lot more i wanted to write about, details on how pyrrha is now and how she thinks and behaves and interacts, but i couldn’t wrangle it in and i was late enough as it was. i hope that what i did manage to write gave you enough of a view on this new pyrrha, and how she is at once changed and unchanged from how she used to be. 
> 
> i have a vague idea/concept for a sort of coda/spinoff type thing for this, but who knows how long that will take me. for now, this is complete. if and when i do write that other bit, it will be “non-canon” for this story and is more of a what-if scenario. 
> 
> this was super weird and super fun to write, and i would love to hear what you think about the grimm-pyrrha concept, this take on it, or anything else about rwby or anything. i’m around on ao3 and on [tumblr](https://luoup.tumblr.com/) (very multifandom, very sporadic posts, sorry), come say hello! thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> title from dog years by maggie rogers
> 
>  
> 
> [Note about Miló and Akoúo̱ – I spent a long time debating whether or not to keep that bit in the story, and it didn't get put in earlier because of that. The show/RWBYwiki vaguely suggest that Miló was completely destroyed and Akoúo̱ was used along with Pyrrha’s circlet to upgrade Jaune’s armor and Crocea Mors, but I don’t particularly like that idea. I wanted to emphasize that Pyrrha was part of all of them, not just Jaune. If they recovered her weapons, I don’t think they would just toss it all into Jaune’s armor. Maybe I’m wrong. But also Pyrrha hasn’t come back as a giant beowolf, so in this I get to do what I want. So, in case the writing wasn’t clear: Jaune carries Pyrrha’s circlet in his shield, Nora has Akoúo̱ for her shield (she uses it mostly as a death-frisbee, but Jaune already has a shield and Ren doesn’t need one), and Ren uses Miló for sniping and close combat (longer-range than StormFlower, and more powerful close up).]

**Author's Note:**

> the [tumblr](http://luoup.tumblr.com)


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